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They're kicking me out of Fight Club
Sep. 10th, 2003 10:29 pmI have purchased the IKEA furniture, and assembled it. Though I had the assistance of my wife and Eric for both endeavors, I feel that the brunt of the responsibility is mine. Though, in my defense, the coffee table isn't a hideous yin-yang symbol, and the bookcases are so fucking huge that they manage to dwarf even our over-large collection of reading materials. This is good: now I can buy more books. :-)
Eric also gets a round of applause for providing the stabilizing influence during my sit-down with Nick. Though, honestly, it was pretty cool from the start. Being only one of the parties involved, I'm not going to go into details: hopefully it's enough for everyone for me to say that, in my opinion, it went really well, and I left feeling much better about the whole thing than I have in over three years.
What I'm feeling worse about with each growing week is teaching the SAT. It's not that I feel like my teaching's getting worse; it's that the fact that many of these kids are being forced into attendance by their parents is becoming more and more blindingly fucking OBVIOUS with each passing class. Getting answers out of anyone other than two or three attentive nerds (and I use the term with great affection) isn't at all like pulling teeth: it's far bloodier, and more painful. Kids fall asleep (which assures that they're getting called on next). For many of these punks the most conscientious behavior they display is reminding me that their watch says it's time to go, when I've got a solid two minutes left of teaching to do (which assures that everyone's staying put until I'm damned well finished).
*sigh*
I am extremely grateful for my LSAT class. They're intelligent, attentive, and enthusiastic. I'm sure much of that is due to the fact that they're choosing to take the LSAT, and not having forced upon them; the rest is mainly that they're at least four years older. But teaching that class is a goddammed oasis in my week.
Last thing for tonight (maybe): as I sit here and try to figure out if I've got the disposable income this week to grab Warren Zevon's last record in a non-pirated format, it occurs to me that, in a just universe, this wouldn't be his last record. If Tupac and Biggie and Jimi can keep churning out records from beyond the Veil, why not Warren? Death didn't stop Roland, why should it stop his creator? Surely Heaven cannot be this indifferent?
But I know, in my heart, that the morbid good humor running through every note of the final recordings will have to be enough. God damn it.
Eric also gets a round of applause for providing the stabilizing influence during my sit-down with Nick. Though, honestly, it was pretty cool from the start. Being only one of the parties involved, I'm not going to go into details: hopefully it's enough for everyone for me to say that, in my opinion, it went really well, and I left feeling much better about the whole thing than I have in over three years.
What I'm feeling worse about with each growing week is teaching the SAT. It's not that I feel like my teaching's getting worse; it's that the fact that many of these kids are being forced into attendance by their parents is becoming more and more blindingly fucking OBVIOUS with each passing class. Getting answers out of anyone other than two or three attentive nerds (and I use the term with great affection) isn't at all like pulling teeth: it's far bloodier, and more painful. Kids fall asleep (which assures that they're getting called on next). For many of these punks the most conscientious behavior they display is reminding me that their watch says it's time to go, when I've got a solid two minutes left of teaching to do (which assures that everyone's staying put until I'm damned well finished).
*sigh*
I am extremely grateful for my LSAT class. They're intelligent, attentive, and enthusiastic. I'm sure much of that is due to the fact that they're choosing to take the LSAT, and not having forced upon them; the rest is mainly that they're at least four years older. But teaching that class is a goddammed oasis in my week.
Last thing for tonight (maybe): as I sit here and try to figure out if I've got the disposable income this week to grab Warren Zevon's last record in a non-pirated format, it occurs to me that, in a just universe, this wouldn't be his last record. If Tupac and Biggie and Jimi can keep churning out records from beyond the Veil, why not Warren? Death didn't stop Roland, why should it stop his creator? Surely Heaven cannot be this indifferent?
But I know, in my heart, that the morbid good humor running through every note of the final recordings will have to be enough. God damn it.
